"Escape from Hell's Kitchen"
by Lein
Summary: Sam finds himself trapped on a remote South American island during a tropical storm, with no way of getting off. However, the island holds a deadly secret that wishes to remain hidden at all costs.
1. Chapter 1

**"Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be known."** -Carl Sagan

Theorizing that one could time travel within his own lifetime, Dr. Sam Beckett stepped into the Quantum Leap accelerator... and vanished.  He woke to find himself trapped in the past, facing mirror images that were not his own, and driven by an unknown force to change history for the better. His only guide on this journey is Al, an observer from his own time, who appears in the form of a hologram that only Sam can see and hear. And so Dr. Beckett finds himself leaping from life to life, striving to put right what once went wrong, and hoping each time that his next leap will be the leap home...

The first thing Sam was aware of was the sound of rain, drumming on a roof.  The second thing Sam was aware of was that he was driving.  His first reaction was to look in the review mirror; but only for a split second to take his eyes back to the rain-slashed windshield, which was almost impossible to see through.  He was behind the wheel of some sort of jeep, or land cruiser, and was driving fast --- too fast  -- down a narrow, muddy road.  He was surrounded on all sides by black jungle.

Lighting lit up the night sky, and the thunderclap that followed actually made Sam jump, and he nearly lost control of the jeep.  He eased of the accelerator a fraction, just as the jeep careened over a slight raised section of the road, sending the vehicle into the air for a split second, before bouncing back down on the road with a shuddering jolt.  

Something dashed across the road, a white flash in his headlights.  It looked like a large rat.  It scurried into the underbrush, dragging a fat tail.  Possum.  Where was he?  Who was he?  What was he here to do?  And where in God's name was…

It was a shock when he came around a corner and saw that the road terminated in a grey concrete wall, 14 feet tall and streaked dark with rain.  Sam slammed on the brakes, and the jeep fishtailed, losing traction in an end-to-end spin, and for a horrified moment he thought he was going to smash into the wall --- he knew he was going to smash --- and he spun the wheel frantically, and the jeep slid to a stop, the headlights just a foot from the concrete wall.

He paused there, listening to the rhythmic flick of the wipers.  He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.  He looked up into the rear view mirror once again, this time to get a proper look at his face.  A burly man with fading brown hair, a steal grey moustache, slight sign of wrinkles, and deep blue eyes stared back at him.  Sam guessed this guy was in his mid fifties.  He wore some sort of dark blue parker with a hood, khaki pants, black shoes --- caked with mud --- with a faded light blue long sleaved shirt.    

On the passenger's seat, lay a fold-up map, opened up, and underneath it, was a 12-inch double barrel shot gun with hammer action.  Three empty cartridges lay in the darkness of the floor.  Sam picked the weapon up.  Still warm.  Dreading the worst, he sniffed the end muzzle of the gun.  Just as he feared, it'd recently been fired.

"Oh boy!"  He moaned, dropping the gun back down on the seat.  

"Escape From Hell's Kitchen" 

By Lein

Quantum Leap, and all it's characters are property of Belisario productions.

The rain thrummed loudly on the roof of the jeep.  Sam sat there for what seemed like hours, just staring at the shotgun on the seat beside him.  He then turned to look at the foliage on ether side of the road.  Not that there was much to see.  Sheets of water streamed down over the sides of the windows, making anything outside to see, virtually impossible.

He 'd better try and find out where the hell he was this time.

He turned the keys in the ignition that shut of the engine, and got out of the jeep, feeling heavy raindrops pelt his head, even with the parker hood up it was raining hard enough so that his head hurt.  It was a real storm, perhaps a tropical storm, considering he was surrounded by jungle.  Jungle.  That narrowed it down to a tropical location, considering the plant growth.  He looked back up at the concrete wall, which he'd nearly smashed into.  It was part of a rock cliff face, with some sort of sewer pipe at the bottom, gushing out gallons of water.  The water it's self was travelling down a sloping concrete half pipe, that disappeared down into the jungle, towards a gurgling water sound.

Was he near the river?  Sam hurried forward, some part of him, wishing it was the ocean.  Was this a desire from the person he'd leapt into to?  To find a river?  He pushed his way into the jungle, his eyes adjusting to the darkness as he went.  Dense jungle on all sides.  Raindrops slapping on the leaves.

The gurgling sound became louder, drawing him forward, and suddenly he came out of the foliage and felt his feet sink into soft earth and saw the dark currents of a river.  Nothing else.  Just a 10-foot wide river.  A small part of him cursed this.  This was strange.  There was a river, but he felt disappointed, and he began to wounder, if he wanted to find the river, why was the wrong one?  Was he looking for a certain section of the river?

The sky light up like day, and thunder roared once more.  Sam put his arms around himself, and shivered, damn the wind was starting to pick up, blowing right into his parker, and throughout his body.  He started back, heading towards the glow of the car's headlights.  He was drenched and miserable.

He heard a soft whining sound cry out into the night, and he paused.  He listened for it, and it came again.  It sounded like a dog of some kind, and it seemed to be close by, in the jungle of to his right.  As he listened, he heard the sound of something crashing through the underbrush.  Then silence.  He waited, and heard it again.  It sounded as if something was moving slowly through the jungle towards him.

_Get out of here!_

The urge seemed to come with a side of outright fear that caused Sam to run.  He made a lot of noise as he ran, but even so, he could hear something crashing through the foliage.  Sam knew he should stop, and call out to see who it was, to see if it was someone this person knew.  But deep down inside, something told him to get the hell back to the jeep, and leave whatever was out there alone.

Stumbling over tree roots in the darkness, clawing his way past dripping branches, he saw the jeep ahead, and the lights shining through the darkness.  He burst out of the jungle, ran around to the drivers side, yanked open the door, and leapt back into the jeep, making sure to lock all four doors.  For the moment, he sat there, panting heavily, before peering out into the rainy night.

Something was out there.  But it wasn't close.  It stood forty feet away, at the edge of the illumination from the headlights.  Sam's eyes widened.  It was a wolf.  A very _large_ wolf.  It was the size of a small pony, with white fur, and was standing out on a muddy road, in the middle of a tropical storm, just watching him.  Sam shivered, not from the cold, but from the look it was giving him.  It seemed to be looking him right in the eyes.

Then it was gone.  It bounded off, back into the jungle.  Sam blinked once, twice, then leaned back in his seat.  He threw up his hands and let them fall into his lap.  "Okay," he muttered to himself, "What now?" 

The sudden signing from beside him made Sam literally hit the roof.  "Thunder and lighting, very, very frighting…" Al sang.

"Would you cut that out!"  Sam snapped.  Al held up his hands in protest.

"Hey," he said, "I was only trying to lighten the mood."  Al looked wired, standing inside the jeep, with his legs disappearing through the bottom of the seat.

"Al, what am I doing here, in fact, where _is_ here?"  Sam asked, looking back out the windscreen, the wipers had stoped when Sam had shut the engine off.   Al punched a few buttons on the hand link.

"Okay… the date is March 1st, 1965.  Your name is David Gibb, you're fifty years old, never been married, you're a professional private investigator from Mia.  Mia?"  Al slapped the side of the hand link, which squealed in protest.  "—mi.  Miami.  From Miami."  He taped a few more buttons, and then continued.  "You're on a tropical island, of the coast of French Guiana, South America, hey, that's where they've got Devil's Island!"

"Al!  Why am I here?"

"Sorry, Sam, ah-hem!  Ziggy says that there's a 89% chance that… you're here to find some girl named Jackie Phelps."

"That's it?"  Sam said.  "I find this girl, and I leap?"

"It's not that simple, Sam," Al said, shaking his head at the hand link.  "According to what records we can find, the both of you never get of the island alive."  

"What?!"  Sam almost shouted.  Al indicated to the hand link screen.

"Well, according to Ziggy, you both are never heard from again."

"Then maybe that's what I'm here to do," Sam said, "Help these two get of the island?"  It seemed too easy.  "What happens to them, Al?"

"Ziggy's not sure," Al replied.  He punched a few buttons, "In fact, nobodies sure, not even the authorities, you're both reported as overdue, and a week later, a search of the island turns up nothing."  He scratched his head.  "Strange."  He said, and taped the hand link a few more times. 

"What's strange?"  Sam demanded.

"All the official reports are some what…. Vague."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I mean, that all is said, is that you're bodies are never found after a week long search, nothing else.  No details of sweeps, people involved in the search, not even a report to the US embassy."

"Why is that strange?"

"Well, according to what Ziggy did manage to dig up on this island, is that there's a hotel/casino on this island, not far, about five miles up the road.  It's fairly recent too, only been open a week and a day.  No mention of witnesses, in fact, there's no mention of the hotel anywhere in our present day records, and as far as the authorities on the mainland are concerned, there never has been a hotel on this island." 

"Then how dose Ziggy know there's a hotel on this island in the first place, if there are no records of it?"

"There are no records here, but Gibb's own personal files tell of a hotel/casino on this island, in fact, that's where you're staying at the moment.  You're booked in for a week, in room 23b."  Sam instinctively looked over to the key in the ignition.  There were four keys there, along with a red tag, with 23b written in gold on it, under that, was the name of the hotel.  "We still don't have enough information, even with Gibb's files, it seems as if he was just on vacation."

"Why would they deny the existence of a profitable business that could bring both jobs and tourism to their economy?"  Al punched a few more buttons on the hand link, getting only beeps and squeals.

"Ziggy's still trying to figure that part out.  We're sorting through everything we've got at the moment, Gibb's files --- seems he a long time friend of the manager --- we'll get back to you when we've got something."  Al punched a few buttons, and the image chamber door opened up.  Al stepped inside, and it closed behind him, leaving Sam all alone once more.

Sitting in the jeep, Sam was once more aware to the sounds of the storm outside.  Where to begin?  This mystery hotel seemed the most likely place.  He reached over to where the shotgun lay, and picked up the map.  Sure enough, the hotel was on the map.  He scanned the map for any sign of a storm drain that emptied into a river.  Bingo, Al was right, the hotel was only five miles away.  He turned the key --- the storm muffling out the sound of the engine starting --- then buckling his seatbelt, panicked a bit when the tires only spun, and when he finally got some traction, drove off down the road.

***

Al entered the Waiting Room.  He saw Sam --- or rather David --- sitting on the table in the middle of the room.

David looked up.  "Why am I here?" He asked.  "What is all this?  Who are you people?"  He was getting angrier by the minute.

Al shook his head.  "As for why you're here, we don't know.  All we do know is that both you, and a woman named Jackie Phelps may be in trouble."

David just rolled his eyes.  "Oh really, you think?  Jackie's fine for the moment, but what does that have to do with me being here?"  Al paused for a moment.  Obviously, this guy knew something they didn't.

"Someone, God, Time, Fate, whatever, decided that you would be in the right spot at the right time, to change history for the better, and Leapt Doctor Beckett into your place.

"'Leapt?!  What the hell are you talking about, and who the hell, is Doctor Beckett?"

"He's the person in your place right now.  Everyone sees him as you.  He's gonna try to help your friend, but we need to know what is going on, on the island?"

"Let me get this straight.  Everyone sees this Doctor Beckett as me?  Including animals?"

"Well, animals see him as he really is," Al explained, "as can young children."

"Your Doctor Beckett is dead man, then.  I suggest you try and get him of that island as soon as possible."

"Why, what's going on?" Al demanded.  

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," David muttered, crossing his arms, "I don't fully understand most of it myself."

"What is going on!?!"  Al insisted.

"The wolves."  Al scoffed at that.

"The wolves?!"  He cried out.  "There are no _wolves_ in South America, now listen, I've got my best friend on that island, and it's plan obvious, that he's in a lot of danger, now tell me, what is going on, on that island!"  David narrowed his eyes.

"Wolves."  Al groaned in frustration.

"Please, Detective Gibb, we can not send you back to your proper place in time, until we know what to look for, now please, tell me what you know!"  David bit his lip.

"There are some sort of killers on the island," he said, "As I said before, I don't understand most of it myself.  As you know, there's a hotel on the island, that doubles for a gambling casino," Al nodded, "About five days ago, I received a call from the manager, a good friend of mine,"

"We know that," Al said.  David continued.

"It seems that they lost a customer, a man staying at the hotel, went on a hike in the islands jungle, and didn't come back."

"So, you were hired to find him?"

"Yes, to find out what happened to him, a disaster of that magnitude can be lethal to a hotel, epically during the opening week."

"But why call you?  Wouldn't the police be able to help?"

"The town on the mainland didn't want to attract any attention to the missing man, it might scare business away, so…"

"So they decided to do it quietly, and sweep it under the rug."  David nodded.

"Being a friend of the manager, and living in Miami, I was someone who was close by, and he could trust."

"Okay, then what happened?"  David closed his eyes, as he lowered his gaze to the floor.

"I don't know," he admitted, "before I boarded the plane, I was talking to Bill, the manager, and he seemed really frightened.  It seems that another guest had gone missing, along with three of the staff.  He hadn't called the police yet, and told them about it, but I could tell from his voice, he didn't understand what was going on either.  When I finally arrive, the next day, I borrowed a police jeep, and took the barge across to the island."  He exhaled, and shook his head.

"What?"  Al demanded.

"There was no one there.  The whole place was deserted, but from the looks of things, they'd all tried to leave in a hurry.  The ferry man hadn't taken anyone off the island, and I doubt they would have tried to swim across, when they have a barge hired for that purpose."

"And what about the wolves?"  Al asked.

"As you know, wolves aren't native to south America, but I've seen them, running around at night, in the jungle, giant wolves, they seem to be there one minute, and gone the next.  They've actually been inside the hotel, I've seen them, nosing around in the kitchen, and one was in the games room last night, sitting on a billiard table, just sitting there, looking me right in the eyes."  He shivered.

"And where dose Ms. Phelps come into all of this."  He shrugged.

"Just a tourist, caught the barge over from the mainland, the day I arrived.  We've managed to survive together"

"Why didn't you call out?"

"Powers out all over the hotel.  The wires had been slashed, but I fixed 'em.  That very night, some one slashed 'em again.  As for the phones and the radio, completely trashed.  The radio had been stolen from its proper place, but later on, I found it smashed up on the beach."  He sighed.  "And that's all I know."  Al didn't respond.

"Doctor Beeks, can you continue here for me?  I've got to get to Sam right away."  He practically bolted out of the room.

***

Staring forward, past the flick, flick, flick of the windshield wipers, Sam saw the black silhouette of the hotel looming in the distance, and he eased of the accelerator, slowing down.  As he did so, the headlights flashed upon a blue arrow sign with white writing on it, in two different languages, English and French.  The English sign read, 'PARKING' and pointed of the right.  

Sam brought the jeep down into first gear, and pulled hard on the wheel, and immediately putting it into second, as he drove up a steep gravel hill, and into a covered parking area.  There were only three other land cruisers there, and all three of them, had their bonnets up, with engine parts strewn all around them.  He exited the jeep, taking the shotgun with him, and walked across the parking garage floor, towards a door that had stairs leading up.  Sam followed the stairs to the ground-floor entrance of the hotel.

He reached the top of the stairs, and saw a door marked 'lobby,' then opened the door.  He immediately halted in his tracks.

In the lobby of the hotel, the glass entrance doors had been shattered, and a cold gray mist blew through the cavernous main hall.  A sign that read, 'WELCOME TO THE GRAND OPENING,' dangled from one hinge, creaking in the wind.  There was a big statue of Napoleon on a horse that lay in pieces on the ground; it looked as if it'd been pushed over.  Outside, through the glass Sam saw rows of palm trees, shadowy shapes in the pouring rain.

Sam hugged himself as the chilling wind blew in through the broken glass doors.  There were two grand staircases, leading up to a set of 19th century double doors, and in between them, a water fountain, that was no longer working.  The smashed statue had been the centrepiece for the fountain.  Beside the door that lead to the garage, was a long desk, with some scattered papers on it, the nameplate read 'FRONT DESK' 

Sam tilted his head back, as if looking to the heavens above.  "You just find the greatest situations to drop me into the middle of, don't you."  He shook his head, and started climbing the staircase.  "Might as well check out my room."

At the top of the stairs, Sam could see out through a huge glass awning that allowed one to look out over the entire island.  Not that was much to see of course, but in the daytime, it must look impressive.  He pushed open the doors, and walked down a hallway.  There were doors on either side on him, as he walked down the hallway.  He'd tried some of the doors, but they'd been locked.  At the end of the hallway, were another set of double doors.  

He pushed them open, and came into what looked like the 1st class dinning room from the Titanic.  Except that some of the tall glass windows had been shattered, and the wind from the storm, had blown everything about, with table clothes here and there, smashed plates, and napkins and flowers all littered the floor.  Sam could only blink at the chaos that lay sprawled before him.  

"What the hell happened here?"  He muttered, before walking down the stairs.  How could the authorities deny something like _this?_  Behind a self-serve bar was a set of double doors with a single circle of glass in the middle.  This door lead to the kitchen.  

Looking at the door, suddenly filled Sam with dread.  Something about the kitchen made him feel nervous, but he couldn't explain why.  He found that he'd raised the shotgun before he knew what he was doing.  Sam glanced down at the hammers of the shotgun.  Both hammers were down.  Sam cursed, as he flipped the switch in between the hammers, and the chamber of the gun popped open.  Sam hastily removed the two spent cartages, and reached into his pocket.  There were five shells in his pocket, and placed two fresh rounds into the chamber, before snapping the barrel shut.

Satisfied he had some protection, he pulled back both the hammers of the gun, and walked towards the door, opening it with the muzzle of the gun.  It was the final straw for a teetering stack of dirty, unwashed plates, over on the kitchen sink, which collapsed, smashed and spread across the floor in an avalanche of broken plaster.  The noise of the disaster echoed throughout the hotel, making Sam wince.

The last thing he wanted to do was to attract attention to himself, even if there was nobody around.  However, something did make all these people leave in a damn hurry, and maybe, whoever it was, was still around.  Slowly, he looked around the kitchen.  Nothing much in here.  Dirty dishes lay in great big piles all over the place, one of them he'd just destroyed.  Sam let his gazes wonder over the abandoned kitchen, taking in every detail.

So, when the image chamber door opened up, and Al stepped out, it was no wonder that Sam swung the gun around, and nearly unloaded a round into the holograms head.  

"Oh, God Al, don't sneak up on me like that!"  Al made a face.

"Well, how am I supposed to let you know I'm coming, a silent alarm?  Or perhaps I'll have Ziggy leap back a mobile phone, so I can ring you every time I'm about to join you."  Sam lowered the gun, but it did not lower his heartbeat.

"Alright, alright, you've made your point," Sam said, leaning against the double door, "What'd manage to dig up?"

"Nothing good, and what we did manage to dig up, doesn't make much since at all."

"What did you dig up, Al?"

"Wolves."  Al said.  "According to David, he says that there are some sort of giant wolves on the island."

"Oh," Sam said, as he blinked into space.  Al raised one eyebrow.

"Oh?  What dose _oh_ mean?"

"I've seen them, Al, or rather, just seen one.  Not long before you first arrived."

"Why didn't you tell me about this, when I first came by?"

"I didn't think much about it, Al."

"How can you not _think much_ about a giant wolf in the middle of a tropical island in South America?"  Al snapped, shaking his hand link up and down as he ranted.

"Well, I didn't know where I was, then when you started singing Bohemian Rhapsody, it kinda put my mind into a jumble, then we got onto talking about other things, and the next thing I know, I'm walking through the hotel that time forgot!"

"Sorry," Al said, "it's just that… it's just that this place gives me the creeps."  Sam nodded in approval.

"You're not the only one, Al," he muttered, "so now that we've got the unpleasantries over with, what else have you got for me, besides wolves?"

"Well, according to David, someone has destroyed all of the phones, and the hotels only communications radio."

"What about the power?"

"Someone keeps cutting the wires," Al said, "David said that he'd fixed them, but someone cut them not long after."

"What about all the other people, and this Jackie woman?"

"Not to sure about the other people.  David said that he'd been called to do a quite investigation into the disappearance of a guest, then by the time he got to the island, there's nobody here."

"And Jackie?"

"No idea where she is, I forgot to ask David that question, but he did say she was safe."  He punched a few buttons, and called out, "Gooshie, centre me on Jackie."  Then, Al promptly vanished, leaving Sam all alone.

Sam took a look around the kitchen once more.  Lying in the kitchen sink was a wine bottle, with a corkscrew still in the top.  Sam's eyes widened.  Oh, what the hell.  He walked over, and picked up the bottle, and pulled out the cork.  He washed out a wine glass, and poured himself a drink.

"Here's to another weird, and crazy leap."  He said, as he lifted the glass to his lips, and drank heavily, perhaps an old habit from David.  He'd nearly emptied the glass when he lowered it back down on the sink, and his gaze fell to the door at the other end of the kitchen….

…Right at the white furred wolf staring him in the eyes.  Sam froze.  His grip tightened on the shotgun, and he found he couldn't move.  He could only stare at the wolf, looking right back at him, only its head was inside the kitchen.  It didn't growl at him, nor did it even flick an ear.  It just stared at him, as if assessing him.

"Sam!"  Sam spun around to see Al standing behind him, "I've found…" 

"Al, look!"  Sam cried out, turning back to the wolf, "There's one of them…"

It was gone.

"…now?"  He blinked in confusion.

"Huh?  Where?"  Al peered over Sam.  "One of what?  I don't see anything."  

Sam indicated with the muzzle of the gun over to the kitchen door.  "I saw one of those wolfs, right over there, it was looking right at me!"

"Well, it ain't there now."  Al said, then looking back at his hand link.  "By the way, I've found Jackie.  She's okay, she's barricaded herself inside a security vult, and it's about three floors down."

"How do I get to her, Al?"

"Through that door there," Al said, pointing out to the dinning room, "Then you should see another door at the other end, that leads to the stair case."  He punched a few buttons.  "The elevators won't work,"

"The powers out, yeah I know."    Sam exited the kitchen; Al followed him, still giving directions.

"Then you go down three floors, and take the first right; after that, you then come to the security both.  You need to get Jackie to open the door to the both if you want to get in."

"Thanks, Al," Sam said, as he opened the doors to the stairs, "I can handle it from here, why don't you go back, and see if you can dig up some more information on this place."

"Sam, are you sure you want to be left alone in _this_ creepy place?  I mean, it ain't Disney land!"

"I'm fine Al, and besides, I'll have Jackie with me, and I need you to find out exactly what is going on?  See if you can find out more about those wolves."

"That's going to be a little difficult, Sam," Al said, "Since I'm the only person here who hasn't seen one, yet."

"It's not too difficult, Al, they're wolves, they're white, and they're big."

"Great description, Sam."  Al rolled his eyes.  He opened up the image chamber door, and disappeared.  Sam looked down the stairs, receding into the darkness.  Automatically, he reached into his parker pocket, and pulled out a torch.  Shrugging, he clicked it on, and shone the beam down the stairs.  No wolves.  

He proceeded down the stairs, his shoes echoing on the concrete stairs as he made his way down three floors.  At the bottom, was a sign marked 'SECURITY' which had a warped glass window on it.  The window it's self had been smashed, and someone had boarded it up with a thin sheet of steel from the inside.

The door was locked, but just as Sam suspected, the keys he had with him, opened the door.  There were two halls, one leading right, and the other going straight ahead.  The thin sheet of metal was actually part of a car door, which had been welded on.  Sam mentally locked the door from the inside, and then headed right, down the hallway.  

At the end of the hall, was the security both, which reminded Sam of bank tellers both.  Just of the left, was a huge security vult door.  The glass covering the both was made of 6 inch bullet proof glass, with two phones, one on his side, and one on the other side.

Sam pushed a big red button next to the phone on his side.  A red light began flashing inside the both.  He only had to wait a few seconds, before the door to the both was opened, and a woman with long blond hair, wearing a green raincoat stepped inside.

Her eyes widened, as she saw Sam standing outside the both, and she quickly disappeared.  Sam was about to push the button again to get her attention, when he heard a low humming sound.  It built up, then abruptly shut it's self off.  There were several clicking sounds, and then the big steel door slid open.  

The woman's head appeared from inside the vault.  "You're back!"  She cried out happily in an English accent.  "I was beginning to think you weren't coming back at all."

"Yeah well…"  Sam suddenly paused, looking at the door.  "Hey, how could all this work, when powers out all over the hotel?"  Jackie gave him a funny look.

"A backup generator, remember?"  She said, slightly confused.  "You rigged it up, before you left.  Say, how'd it go?  Did you get to the boat house?"  She asked.

"Umm…" Sam stumbled, wishing he hadn't asked Al to leave him alone, but he desperately needed more information on those wolves.  "I didn't get there," he admitted, "I took a wrong turn somewhere, and ended up at the river."

"What?"  She almost shrieked.  "How could you take a wrong turn?  It was left, left, then right, and you're there!  I gave you a bloody map!"

"It was the storm!"  Sam quickly protested.  "I… I lost my way when the rain got really heavy.  I literally couldn't see were I was going."

She shook her head.  "Well, I'm just surprised that the wolves didn't get you."

"I ran into one, down by the river," Sam said, "But it didn't attack me, just looked straight at me, then took off."  Jackie was confused.

"Huh?"  She said, looking right at Sam.  "What do you mean, just took off."  Sam gestured with his free hand.

"That's just what happened."  He said.  "It stood there, then left."

Jackie shook her head.  "That shouldn't be.  If you survived an encounter with a wolf for that long, then something's really wrong."

"Uhh, yeah."  Sam agreed.  "Maybe they're changing their strategy.  Look, I don't think it's safe down here, those wolves seem to beside the hotel now."  Now, he had _really_ confused Jackie.

"What?"  She said, giving him a puzzled look.  "What the hell's gotten into, Gibb?  First you say it's not safe in our bedrooms, now you're saying that it's not safe down here?"

"Look," Sam quickly added, "I don't like what's going on as much as you do, okay, but we can't stay any longer in this hotel."

"Fine, she said, keeping her eye on him, "We'll try for the boat house again."  She head down the hallway for the stairs, "And this time, I'M driving."  Sam nodded, as he followed.  He swore mentally to himself.  He'd obviously made a damn mess of things here, and already, this Jackie woman was beginning to suspect something was wrong.  

Damn it, Al, where are you?

***

Al dialled the last number in on the speakerphone, and leaned back in the chair.  He had decided to get the answers he needed from the only place he knew where to get them from.  The town on the mainland.  He'd dug up the name of the town from Gibb's files, and rang the number for the police station.  

The phone rang three times.  Half way during the fourth ring, it was answered.

"Hello?"  And elderly man with a French accent answered.  "This is the Kaw Police station, Sheriff Dutourd speaking."

"Hi," Al said, speaking in French, "I'm Admiral Calavicci of the United States Navy; I would like to ask for your full cooperation for just a few minutes.  Would that be possible?"  

"Why certainly, monsieur Calavicci," the man said.  "How can I help you?"

"Do you have any files left over from the time period of the 1960's?"

"Just a second," the man said.  He was gone for a minute, before he returned.  "Why, yes we do, moneieur, what exactly are you looking for?"

"Missing persons, the date would be March 1st, 1965."

There was a short gasp on the other end of the line.  Then, silence.

"Hello?"  All called out.  "Hello, are you still there?" 

"I'm afraid we don't have any missing persons files from that time period, moneieur," the man said hastily.  

Al glanced over at the files next to him.  "Not even from the Napoleon Hotel?"

"There never has been such a hotel, monsieur," the Sheriff snapped, "It's 10:59 at night down here, and I'm tired.  Now, please, leave me alone!"

"If you hang up, Sheriff," Al said, "I want you to know I not only have your police stations number, but your own home number, and I'm just going to call back, and I'm going to keep calling, until I get some answers."

There was another long pause.  "What do you want to know?"

"What is on that island?"

"How do you know about the island?"

"Never mind how I know about it," Al said, "Just tell me, what is on that island?"

"The devil, monsieur," the man answered, "I know you might think I'm crazy, but you wanted me to tell you, so now I'm telling you.  The devil himself lives on that island."  

"What happened, back in '65"

"We went over to the island, to check up on the hotel, after we lost contact with them.  We found the island deserted.  About a week into the search, we were attacked by were wolves."

"Were wolves?"

"Yeah, shape shifters!  They look like wolves, then they turn into demons.  I was only a new recruit back then, and I lost my Sheriff, and two deputies to those demons.  The rest of us barely made it back to the mainland.  The towns folk nicknamed the island, Hell's Kitchen."  

Al sat in stunned silence.  Were wolves?  It was impossible.

"Hello?  Monsieur?  Are you still there?"

"Yeah, I'm here," Al said, "Is that all?"

"Over the years, a few thrill seekers have gone over to the island, and all of them, never came back.  Despite making the island off limits, we still get a few screwballs thinking they can have a great time.  One thing is always the same.  Once you go into Hell's Kitchen, you don't come out."

***

MORE TO COME…….


	2. Chapter 2

The jeep was still where Sam had left it, parked in the garage with the other three.  Sam got his first good look at the jeep.  It was a police vehicle, with two flashing blue lights and a siren on the top.  The side door read 'Kaw Police Detp.'    
  


"Give me the keys," Jackie said, heading for the driver's side door, "I'll take the proper road, this time!"  Sam dug into his pocket, and tossed the keys to Jackie.  She easily caught them, and opening her side door, started up the engine.

"Wait for me," Sam said, climbing into the passenger's side door.  The moment he did, Jackie popped the jeep into reverse, and shot backwards, spinning the wheel, so that they faced the garage exit.

"The sooner we get of this island," Jackie said, waiting for him to buckle himself in, "the sooner we can wait for you to buckle up."  Not giving him another moment to do so, she slammed the gear stick into first, and pealed out of the garage, and into the stormy night.

Jackie?"  Sam asked nervously, as they roared down the step gravel hill, "don't you think you're going a little too…"  She didn't slow down; instead, she put her foot to the floor, as they approached the bottom.  "JACKIE!!"  He cried out, covering his eyes.

As they reached the bottom, Jackie slammed on the brakes, and pulled hard on the wheel, taking the corner with much skill.  The jeep still slid, but not like when Sam nearly crashed into the wall.    Then, she put her foot on the accelerator, and took off down the road.

She turned and grinned at him.  "You should have more faith in a woman driver, Gibb," she said with a hint of sarcasm.

"Where did you learn to drive like that?"  Sam asked, his hart beat slowly down.  She started to say something, but Sam had to ask her to shout, to here her above the noise of the rain.  It was deafening inside with the sound of the rain hitting the jeep.

"My uncles estate," she shouted with little indifference.  "He has all these racing cars."

"Sam!"  Sam didn't here Al the first time, but when he leaned over, and practically shouted, Sam heard him then.

"Whoa!"  He cried out, spinning around to see Al behind him.

"Hey, relax, will ya," Jackie cried, not bothering to look over at him, "My driving isn't _that_ bad."

"Sam," Al said in his ear, "Climb over into the back, and pretend you're looking for something."  Sam nodded, and turned to Jackie.

"I think there's some more ammunition for the shotgun in the back, I'll just go take a look."

"Fine," Jackie called out, as she never took her eyes away from the win screen, "But I'm not slowing down."  Sam manoeuvred his way into the back area, and pretended to look around.

"What did you find out, Al," Sam said, talking normally.  Al leaned in closer, so that the two were just inches apart, so that could talk.

"Well, I called up the mainland police station, in our present time, and got in contact with the sheriff.  I persuaded him to spill the beans on what _he_ knew."

"And?"  Sam asked.

"He said that those giant wolves we've… you've been seeing, are in fact, werewolves."

"Werewolves?"  Sam didn't believe him, "And you actually bought that?"  He shook his head.  "I should've known."

"Alright then," Al said, "Then how do _you _explain them?"

"Hang on back there!"  Jackie shouted back, and Sam braced himself as the Jeep made a hard left turn.

"Okay," Sam said, accepting Al's challenge, "it's obvious that these wolves were part of some ship that must have crashed here, and these wolves managed to swim ashore."

"Do you know how lame that sounds?"  Al said, "Why won't you accept the truth?"

"Because the truth sounds ridiculous, Al!  Come on, werewolves?"

"Then how do you explain what's been going on here?  The disappearance of the guests, who's been cutting the power, and destroying all communications."

"First of all, we don't know if all the guests are dead, Al," Sam said, "did you ever stop to think that maybe it could be a terrorist group holding these people for ransom, using the werewolf bit as a cover?"

"Then how come the police on the mainland complained about werewolves, huh?"  Al said.  "The sheriff I spoke with said that he lost three men to them, and that he saw them change, before his eyes."

"Maybe he was exaggerating, maybe they're trained wolves, trained to kill, but I'm not buying the werewolf theory, Al.  Not until I see some substantial proof."

"Brace your self!"  Jackie shouted.  Sam held on, as the Jeep made another hard left.    Sam look up, and out of the windscreen.  The rain poured down, and overhanging leaves and branches slapped and scraped at the windows.  The further they travelled, the more the jungle became close and fetid around them.

"We're nearly there," Jackie said, turning back to face Sam, "The right turn is coming up, but I still don't know how you man..."  Both Sam and Al spotted the large black object rushing up to meet the jeep.

"Sam, what's tha…?"  Al started, when Sam's eyes widened, and he pointed towards it.

"Jackie, what out!"  Sam shrieked.

"Huh?!"  Jackie cried out, spinning around to face the front.  The jeep burst through the line of palm trees along the road and came out into a narrow dark road, leading towards a fallen tree, cleverly blocking their path.  "Bloody Hell!"  Jackie screamed.

She pumped on the brakes, and pulled hard on the wheel.  The manoeuvre would have worked, had the jeep's front left tire not clipped the roots sticking out.  The jeep's speed, catapulted it into the air, spinning it around in, so that when it back down to earth, it landed on it's top.

When the jeep hit the tree, Sam stuck out all his limbs, as if the walls were caving in.  Had he not managed to buckle himself in, in the split second that followed, he surly would have been killed when the jeep came back down.

All the rain, and turned the dirt road to mud, which is probably what prevented the roof from caving in, when it hit.  The end result was that the jeep, rolled over on it's right side, and slid a few meters down the road, before slamming head first into a palm tree on the side of the road.

In the seconds that followed, Sam just lay there, his face pressed against a cracked window.  Glass lay all about him, and the rain from outside was dripping down upon him.

"Sam?!"  Sam recognised Al's voice.  "Sam, answer me!?  Are you alright!?"

"Oohhhhhhh!"  He moaned.

"I'll take that for a yes, is anything broken?"  Slowly, Sam moved all his limbs.  His left leg nagged him.

"No," he mumbled.  He reached up, and unbuckled himself.  His body fell down to greet him.  He groaned, as he stood up.  "J..Jackie?  Is she…?"

"I don't know, Sam."  Sam looked into the front seat.  She lay there, some blood trickling down the right side of her face.  Panicking, he reached over, and put two fingers against her neck.  A pulse.  Sam smiled.

"She's okay," Sam said, reaching over, to unbuckle her.  Then reaching in with his other arm, he pulled her into the back with him.  Then, checking for broken glass, he kicked open the left side door, and pushed her out, into the pouring rain.  

The raindrops were still heavy, as Sam lifted himself out onto the side of the jeep.  Then, he pulled himself out, and dropped down onto the muddy road, his shoes sinking deep as he landed.  He then reached back up, and pulled Jackie down, then, hoisting her over his shoulder, he carried her just to the edge of the jungle, and lay her down against a palm tree, sheltering her somewhat from the heavy rain.

Relieved, Sam then checked himself out.  His parker was torn on the left arm, and here and there, were tell tale cuts on his trousers.  

"I'm glad you're okay, Sam."  Al cried out, over the storm.  Sam spun and nearly fell over in the mud.  Al did have this habit of scaring a few years of his life.  He should be an old man by now.

"Al," Sam said, panting, "What the hell was _that_?!"  He shouted, pointing over at the fallen tree.  They both looked over at the tree, then at the jeep.  

It wasn't going anywhere fast.  Its front left tire had been torn off, and the front end of the jeep was crumpled, with engine parts hanging out the sides of the bonnet.  There was a long muddy trench leading from the tree to the crash site, with broken glass littering the trail.

"Sam!"  Al called out, "Take a look at this!"  Sam walked over to were Al was standing.  The place was the tree had been up rooted.  All around, there were marks of digging.  This could have only been done with shovels.  Someone had deliberately pulled this tree down.  Who ever it was, didn't want anyone reaching the boathouse.

Sam turned back to Al.  "Al, go back, and talk to David, find out everything you know, and I do mean everything!"  Al nodded, pressing a few buttons, opening the image chamber door, then stepping through it, it closed behind him.

Sam then turned back to Jackie.  She was beginning to stir.  "D…David?"  She called out weakly.  "Are… are you…"

"Shhhh," Sam hushed her, "I'm here."  He checked her head.  She wasn't bleeding much, and the scratch didn't look that nasty.  "Come one," he said, putting one arm around her, and putting her other arm around his, "can you stand?"

She wobbled to her feet, and took a few fuzzy steps.  "I – I should be alright soon," she said, placing a hand to her for-head, "Let's keep moving, we can't stop, not out here!"  Sam helped her along, and lent her against the destroyed jeep.

"Just wait here," he said, before half disappearing into the jeep.  He remerged with the shotgun, and the car keys, and put his arm around Jackie once more.  "Come on," he whispered to her.  "I'm here for you."  Even with the storm thundering around them, Sam was pretty sure she heard him. 

"I hope the police don't mind that we trashed their jeep."  Jackie said, forcing a chuckle.  

Sam smiled.  "They can bill me," he replied.

As they stumbled off from the crash site, neither one of them, nor the hologram, had seen the many pairs of glowing eyes, watching from the darkness of the jungle.

***

Al stormed into the waiting room; his eyebrows were down, casting shadows across his face, his cigar long gone, and his hand link down by his side.  David was eating some dinner provided to him by the facility.  He looked up from a mouthful of potatoes as Al thundered over to him.

"What is it this time?"  David asked.

"What happened to you, out there?"  Al asked through his teeth.

"Out where?"

"Before Doctor Beckett leapt into your body!  What were you doing?"

"I was driving to the boat house."  It took all of Al's will power not to punch him.

"Doctor Beckett just crashed into a tree deliberately place across the road," Al snapped, "he and your companion, Ms. Phelps were nearly killed."

"Is Jackie okay?"  David asked, suddenly realising what'd happened.

"She's still alive, but I left before finding out any serious injuries."   David was silent, hanging his head.

"It all started when Jackie found a information pamphlet about the many activities you could do on the island.  One of them was a boat ride of the island river.  You could go in a small group, or with a guide.  According to what other information we could find, the boat was stored in a small boathouse in near the east end of the island.  I told her to barricade herself inside the security vault, until I got back.  If it was there, I would take it back with me, go get her, and take it down to the ocean, and get back to the mainland that way."

"You ended up near a storm drain."  Al said.  "I doubt you took a wrong turn."

"As I was on my way, I saw the road block.  Like you, I figured out it's been done by hand.  I got out of the jeep to investigate, when I was attacked by the wolves."  He shivered, visibly as he remembered the encounter.  "I was only out of the jeep for only a few seconds, when they attacked.  It was organised, and well planed.  They attacked from the front and behind.  I had the side door still open, and used it to shield the front attack, while shooting at the wolf behind me."  

"What happened next?"

"I didn't get it, the moment I started raising my gun, it changed direction fast, too fast, and was gone back into the jungle.  The other one hit the side door, but high-tailed it back into the jungle before I could even swing my gun around.  I think there were three of them, rushing out of the jungle, only to rush back in on the other side.  I fired two more shoots, before I realised I was just wasting ammo.  That's what they wanted me to do.  I then decided to high tail it outta there.  But it was too easy.  They didn't try to strike me, rather herd me away.  I wasn't thinking properly at the time, I just jumped in, and took off, not caring which road I took."

Al nodded in agreement.  After all, he was in Vietnam and like they used to say, 'When you're up to your ass in alligators, it's difficult to remember that your initial objective was to drain the swamp.'

"It sounded obvious when you told me about what happened with Doctor Beckett, that he ended up by the storm drain that they intended to lead me into an ambush.  Still, I have no idea why they didn't just kill him."

"You should have told us this earlier," Al said, "You're lack of cooperation might have put them all in grave danger."

"Where are they now?"  David asked.

"On their way to the boathouse, by foot."  David grabbed Al's jacket with both hands.

"On foot?  Out in the jungle?  At night?!  Is your Doctor Beckett mad?!!"

"Relax," Al said, pulling David of him, "Those wolves didn't attack him, yet, or when I was there."

"But for how long?"  David asked.

***

By the time they reached the boathouse, Jackie had regained her balance, and was helping Sam limp along. 

"Well," Jackie said, easing her arm of Sam, "according to the map… this is it."  Their flashlights illuminated a metal barrier with black and yellow stripes on it.  The lighting light up the night sky, and Sam saw the darkened shape of a low wooden building, with a corrugated iron roof.  Beyond that, lay the jet-black swirling currents of island-river. 

They both made a dash across to the building, as best as Sam's leg could let him, with the heavy rain pelting them.  Sam reached the door first, and pulled out the car keys.  One of them was for the boathouse, he knew that mentally, but he paused.

"What is it?"  Jackie called out over the wind.  

"See for your self!"  Sam shouted back, as he stood aside.  The lock for the boathouse was still there, but it was broken.  The latch was the only thing keeping the door closed.  "The lock's been cut!"

"Who do you suppose did this?  The wolves?"  Sam shrugged.  

"I don't think so," he cried out, picking up the lock, "This lock looks as if it's been cut by bolt cutters.  That would require thumbs!"  He wiggled his own to emphasise his point.

"Then we're not alone on this island?"  She shouted back.  Sam just shrugged.

"Let's just get out of this rain, first!"  She nodded in agreement, and Sam through open the door, and they both rushed inside.  

If they had trouble hearing each other outside, it was worse inside.  The tropical rain fell in drenching sheets, hammering the roof of the boathouse, roaring down the metal gutters, splashing on the ground in a torrent.  The roof of the building was made of corrugated iron, and the pelting rain echoed loudly inside.

Sam stumbled around in the gloomy recesses of the building.  He pushed past five-gallon container of motor-oil; spare tires for a jeep, a table of old tools, rolls of wire cable, and a few empty beer bottles.

"I don't see a boat."  Sam called, shining the torch into a cobwebbed corner.  

"A raft, it's called a raft, Gibb," Jackie shouted back, "It should be here, it has to bee here!"  Sam stumbled over some bags of fertilizer, and shone the torch on a far wall.  And empty tool rack…. And two plastic oars hung on clips on the concrete wall.

"Okay," he called out, indicating with the torch to Jackie, "But where's the raft?"

"It must be here somewhere!"  Jackie cried back.

"Maybe who ever cut the lock of the door, already took it!"  Sam shouted.  "Maybe somebody trying to leave the island when we arrived.  That would explain how the lock was cut."

"But it must be here!"  Jackie cried out.  She was beginning to panic.  "Have you tried over there?"    Sam shone the torch over on a metal cabinet on the wall.  He walked over to it, and opened the door.  A rolled up ice of paper fell out, and landed at Sam's feet.  

Picking it up, and examined it.  It was a set of plans, all speckled with mould from the humidity.  He cleared aside some junk on the wooden table, and rolled out the plans.  He used some pain cans as paper wights, and shone the torch on the plans.

"What is it?"  Jackie asked, peering over his shoulder.  They were detailed topographical charts for the main area of the island they were in.  He flipped through a few pages.  According to the charts, the river ran right through the island.  Follow it, any way, and you come out to the ocean.  No wonder they wanted to get to the river.  Get a raft, take the river, and you're home free.

Flipping over another page, Sam found a blue print for the building they were in.  Shining the torch around the room, everything was were it should be, except for a pile of old empty paint cans.  Sam looked back on the plans.  The paint cans should be over the other side of the room, and where they were….

There was a picture of a boat.

Bingo.  Sam rushed over to the old paint cans.  "What is it, Gibb?"  Jackie asked, Sam ignored her, as he kicked the pile of the paint cans over, and they crashed all over the floor.  He then shifted through the destroyed pile with his foot, and came across what he was looking for.

A large metal box, cemented into the ground, and clearly stencilled across it was 'RAFT STORAGE.'

"You found it!"  She shouted out, as her flashlight shone across the box.  Sam quickly flipped it open, and pulled out a few orange life vests, and a rubber rectangular box.  Beneath that, was an air pump.  

"Help me inflate this," Sam called out, as he pulled out the air pump.  Jackie undid the straps, and unfolded the raft.  Sam found the nozzle, and started pumping.  Slowly, very slowly, the raft began to fill with air, and take shape.

"Okay, shut it off!"  Sam yelled, as he pulled the pump hose from the nozzle, and Jackie quickly sealed the rubber nozzle, trapping the air inside the raft.  Sam poked the sides of the raft, testing it.

"Think it'll hold?"  Jackie asked.

"I hope so," Sam answered back.  He picked up the raft, it was surprisingly heavy, and turned to Jackie.  "I'll take the raft down to the river, you go get the oars!"  Sam dragged the raft over to the door, kicking it open, wincing as he used his bad leg.  He pulled the raft out into the pouring rain, and through the bushes, down towards the river.

The wind howled, threatening to tear the raft away from Sam's hands, as he heaved the thing down the muddy embankment, and landed with a splash in the river.  He then pulled half of it, back onto the shore, so it wouldn't float away on them.

Sam stumbled back up the embankment, as best as his leg would allow him.  "Jackie?"  He called out, "Come on, let's go!"  As he pushed through the bushes, out into the open ground before the boathouse, he froze.

Jackie was slowly backing up, towards him, white as a ghost, while out of the darkness, stalked eight or ten wolves.  They had their ears forward; their tails low, and formed a cordon around Jackie.  

"Oh boy," Sam whispered.

At that moment, the wolves attention switched to him.  Now, they started growling, their ears flattened against their heads, and they paused.

"Jackie," Sam cried out to her, so that she heard him over the storm, "Come over to me, slowly."  She eased her way over to him, keeping her eyes on the wolves, clutching the oars to her chest like a shield.  Sam put his arm around her, the moment she got over to him, and together, they eased backwards into the bushes, and down towards the embankment.

Just then, out of the corner of his eye, Sam saw the glowing eyes.  Of to his far right, he saw the wolf.  It was like the rest, only this one, was trying to flank him.

As he turned to face it, the other wolves acted.  They rushed at Sam.  Sam spun around, he already had the shotgun raised, and the movement of the wolves was incredible.  With no time to think, or even aim, Sam fired from the hip.

The shotgun roared over the noise of the storm.  The wolves all suddenly changed direction.  The one closest to Sam, leapt into the air, and off to the left, as the ground beneath it exploded in a shower of mud.  Jackie cried out, and immediately, the sound of crashing through the bushes, erupted of to his right.  Sam swung the gun around, and this time he raised it to his eye level, and took aim.

The end muzzle of the gun exploded with a bright flash, and the crashing sound retreated of to the left.

"Get to the boat!"  Sam roared.  Jackie practically fell down the embankment, towards the boat.  Sam turned back to face the front, as he stumbled backwards.  He'd fired both barrels, meaning he needed to reload.  If the wolves chose to attack him now, he was defenceless.  

He popped open the chamber, wrenched out the spent shells, slammed in new ones, snapped it shut, and pulled back both hammers in a record three seconds.  Three seconds too long.  Sam's eyes flickered all around him, trying to spot the wolves.  The damn winds was shaking the leaves about, it was hard to tell weather they were coming at him from all directions. 

"David, hurry!"  Jackie shouted out, as she jumped into the boat.  Sam said a prey, and lunched himself down the embankment, rolling through the bushes, and landing with a splash in the water.  "DAVID!!!"  She screamed.  

Sam looked back up, to see two wolves slowly crawling down toward him.  Without thinking, Sam swung the gun around, and fired from the hip.  The gun muzzle roared, and a large overhanding jungle leaf, a few meters of the left suddenly vanished.  The wolves didn't bother looking over at it.

Just then, powerful hands griped his shoulders, and he was yanked out of the water, and into the raft with such force, that he nearly lost the shotgun.  Sam lost all sense of direction for a split second, and when he looked back at the wolves, they were slowly drifting away.  He turned around, and saw Jackie rowing furiously in the opposite direction of the shoreline.

"Give me an oar!"  Sam cried out.  Jackie handed him one, while shifting her position to the front of the raft, while Sam seated himself at the rear, they started rowing like a canoe.

The rain tore at their drenched bodies, chilling them to the bone.  The wind that howled around them, helped to push their raft along, as they rowed --- not sure in which direction --- away from the shoreline and the wolves.

"They're still following us!"  Sam looked up at the top of the embankment, and sure enough, he could see the glowing eyes, bobbing along, as they followed the raft down the river.

"What the hell do they want?!"  Sam snarled, as he began to row even harder.

"Wait!"  Sam stopped rowing, to look at Jackie.  She was looking from left, to right, and back again.

"What is it!"  Sam asked her, leaning close to be heard over the wind.  

  
"They're not attacking us, they're just watching us."  Sam looked at the riverbanks, on both sides.  He could see eyes, glowing in the jungle, but doing nothing more, just watching them.  "I don't think they can get at us."

She was right.  The wolves were doing nothing more, than watching them.  Just then, Sam saw something. 

"What is it?"  Jackie asked.  Sam hugged her close to him, with his right arm, as he pointed with his left.  

"Look," he said, "They're leaving."  One by one, the glowing eyes began to vanish.  They would blink a few times, and then fade into the jungle darkness.

"By good, you're right!"  Jackie cried out in joy, as the last set of eyes vanished all together.

"Thank God," Sam muttered, as he leaned back.

"Why did you stop rowing?"  Jackie asked.

"I'm tired, and I need to rest."  Jackie nodded in agreement.

"Good idea."  She pulled her oar in, and leaned back.  She looked down at the water, then ahead, and back to Sam.  "Were still moving."  Sam sat up.  She was right.  The raft drifted steadily east, following the river.

"There must be a current."  The current was carrying them east, towards the ocean --- and freedom.  

"This should take us to the ocean," Jackie said, smiling, "Then we can row to the mainland!"  Sam nodded back to her.  It was the first time he'd seen her smile.  

He shivered.  Now that the danger had passed, he was finally feeling the effects of the storm.  He wrapped both his arms around himself, trying to trap some warmth.

"You're cold!"  Jackie said, "Here, let me warm you up!"  She crawled over to him, and took of her raincoat.  She then snuggled up close to Sam, and draped it over them, like a bed sheet.  Sam stopped shivering.  

"Thankyou," he said, "that's much better."  She smiled at him.  Sam sighed.  "I don't think we should be doing this," he muttered, looking down at the river.

"Doing?"  Jackie looked confused.  "Doing what?"

"This!"  Sam looked back at her, "I mean, I'm fifty years old.  I'm way to old for you."  She smiled and shook her head.

"David, I'm only 43."  Sam looked surprised.

"Really?"  He said.  "I thought you were 36."  She laughed.

"Nope.  Aren't you sweet," she said, "So, what were you saying about being to old?"  Sam just shook his head.

"Nothing."  He muttered, "nothing."  She nodded, moving closer to Sam, and closing her eyes.

As they travelled along with the current, the river became narrower.  The banks closed in on both sides, until the trees and the foliage overhanding the banks met high above to block out most of the rain.  Drops still trickled down, but it was not annoying.  Sam still heard the sounds of the raging storm, but also of other animals, of birds.

Almost musical.  

This area of the island seemed very quite.  Almost peaceful, as if the recent events of what had happened to them, were nothing more than bad dreams.  They drifted among the isolated drops of rain.  If anything, they seemed to be drifting faster than before.  Glancing over at Jackie, he saw she'd drifted to sleep.

Sam looked down at the river.  It was getting to narrow for his liking.  It was getting to the point were the raft was wider than the river.  The rubber gunwales often scraped on the mud as the swift current pulled the boat along.  If the wolves caught up with them, there was nothing they could do.

As they continued along, the foliage got closer and closer, until Sam could reach the leaves by just sitting up, and stretching out his arm.  It was like being in a tunnel.  No rain got in now.  

_Thump!_

Sam froze.  The raft had stopped moving.  They were aground, against the riverbank.  For that split second, Sam couldn't breath.  He concentrated on all the sounds around him.  The rain slapping on leaves, the thunder rumbling, the wet leaves slapping together as the wind howled.

Suddenly, there was a long slow scraping sound of the raft against the mud.  Then, the raft was moving again, floating down the river once more.  Sam breathed a sigh of relief.  Though he couldn't help but wonder.  What happened to Al?

***

"What do you mean, you can't send me back?!"  Al practically shouted.

Gooshie just shook his head, not looking up from the control panel.  "I'm sorry, Al, but the storm is really starting to interfere with our equipment.  Even if we did manage to send you back, you wouldn't be able to properly communicate with Sam."

Al just rolled his eyes.

"That's just fantastic." 

***

The river was now very narrow, and flowing swiftly.  The raft was going faster all the time.  It was starting to feel like an amusement park ride.  Amazingly enough, Jackie was still asleep.

Sam squinted, looking forward.  The river was still narrow and dark, but farther ahead he could see the trees ending, and they were suddenly pelted by the full fury of the storm.  That woke Jackie up.

"Aww, Christ," she complained, sitting up, "I was having the nicest dream…"  Her voice was drowned out by the howling wind, doubled over with a distant roaring sound.  Through the pouring rain, Sam saw that the river seemed to end abruptly in a peculiar flat line.

The raft was going still faster, rushing forward.

Sam's eyes widened, and grabbed his oar, and started paddling like a mad man.

"What is it?!"  Jackie cried out over the roar.  Sam shouted out something, but she couldn't here it.  "What?!"  She yelled.

"WATERFALL!!!"  Sam bellowed.  Jackie froze, unable to move for a split second, before she grabbed her oar.  The raft raced forward on, in the swift current toward the lip of the waterfall.  The roar was loud in their ears.  They both paddled as strongly as they could, trying to pull the raft towards the shore, but only succeeded in spinning the boat in circles.  It continued inexorably toward the lip.

Suddenly, he felt something shoved into his lap.  Looking down, he saw the orange life preserver, and looked over to see Jackie belting on hers fast.

"CAN YOU SWIM!??!"  Jackie shouted!  Sam buckled his on with lighting speed, just as they reached the edge.  The noise of the waterfall combined with the storm, made it impossible to be heard anymore, so Sam only nodded.

Sam then grabbed his oar, and jammed it deep into the water, felt it catch hold, right at the lip; the rubber raft shuddered in the current, but they did not go over.  Sam strained against the oar and, looking over the edge, saw the sheer drop of fifty feet down to the surging pool below….

…And waiting for them, at the edge of the pool, waiting for them, were about twenty or so wolves, all looking up at the both of them.

Jackie screamed.  Sam heard her, even over the roar of the fall, even over the howling of the wind, even with the rain pelting him in the face, he heard her.  Then, the boat spun, and the rear end dropped away, spilling them out into the air and roaring water, and they fell sickeningly.  

Sam flailed his arms in the air, and the world went suddenly silent, and slow.

***

TO BE CONCLUDED


	3. Chapter 3

It seemed to him, as he fell, that everything was moving in slow motion; he was granted a whirlwind glace of Jackie, tumbling head over heals towards the bubbling water below, he could make out the frozen sheet of the waterfall, and the dark grey sky.  There seemed to be no other sound, beside that of his own breath, as he twisted and turned about.

Then, with a stinging slap, Sam plunged into the cold water, surrounded by white frothing bubbles.  He tumbled and spun in the water, not knowing which direction was up or down, as he was swept down through the pool, and taken by the current out into the stream beyond.

Sam's head burst above the water, and he drew in a deep breath.  He then began splashing about, trying to keep his head above water, as the stream carried him along.

Suddenly, a hand grasped his own, and it's grip held.  Sam then felt a tug, and his feet were kicking at rocks.  He shock his the hair out of his eyes, and saw Jackie pulling him up onto a rock in the middle of the river.

"Thanks," he gasped, as he struggled to get a footing on the slippery stone.  Looking down stream, Sam saw many other rocks dotted the river, but were closer to the shoreline. 

"Don't mention it," Jackie said.

"What happened to the raft?"  Sam asked.

A loud bang on the shoreline drew their attention, towards five wolves, gathered around a dark green sheet, which they were in the process of ripping to shreds.  

"I think that answers that question," Jackie muttered, "Looks like we're back to square one."

"I've got a better question," Sam said, looking around, "How do we get of this rock?"  On both banks of the river, the wolves stood, some sat, watching them.  The shore line and beyond was dotted here and there with light foliage, meaning if they made it to shore, they wouldn't have any cover.  In front of them, lay the fifty-foot waterfall, and behind them, the river stretch on, out of sight.

Sam titled his head towards the heavens, letting the rain slap him in the face.  Lighting flashed, and thunder roared once more.

"What about the shotgun?"  Jackie asked.  Sam shook his head.

"It's somewhere down there," Sam said, pointing towards the waterfall, "lying at the bottom of the pool, along with our flashlights…"  Sam patted his pockets, "…and the rest of our ammunition."

"Well, what about my gun?"  Jackie asked.  Sam spun around to face her.

"Gun?  What gun?"  She reached into her left hiking boot, and pulled out a small revolver, no bigger than the size of his hand.

"This gun, remember?"  She said, "You gave it to me, before you originally left for the boat house."  Sam mentally kicked himself.

"Oh yeah," he said taking the gun, "It's just with all that happened, I forgot about it."  He popped open the chamber, and saw six shiny bullets.  He snapped it shut.  "Okay, maybe we could…"

He paused in mid-sentence when a lighting bolt light up the night sky, and he got a good look at the weapon in his hands.  It was an RG14.  With it's shortened barrel, and low calibre size of .22, this weapon was easy to conceal, and could be carried anywhere. However it's one major drawback was its limited range, ten yards.

He looked up at the shore.  The nearest wolf was about 20 yards away.  "Well, this is useless," Sam, muttered, depositing the weapon in his trouser pocket.  "I don't think we could even wound on of those wolves with this pea-shooter, let alone use it to help us escape."

"So what are we supposed to do then," Jackie asked, "Just sit here and wait for them to go away?"  Sam looked from her, to the wolves, and back again.

"Until someone comes up with a better plan, that's exactly what were going to do."  Sam hunched over, and wrapped his arms around his legs, hugging them close, as he tried to ignore the rain, falling down all around him.

"Here," Jackie said, as she took of her coat once again, and wrapped it around the both of them, "We can't have each other catching a cold.  

As she leaned her head against Sam, he looked up at the darkened sky once more.  What were their hopes of survival?  He'd always been in tight situations before, and managed to get out of them, but here, he saw no way out.

"Where are you, Al?"  He whispered.  If he needed his over sexed, over dressed friend more than ever, it was now.  It was then; that Sam notated that the rain seemed to have slackened off.  It was still raining, but the wind was howling and bowling like before.

Maybe the storm was finally clearing up?  Sam hopped so.  It was the last thing he remembered, before drifting of to sleep.

***

Al waited patently as Gooshie worked away on the computer.  

"Well?"  Al asked.  Gooshie paused for a moment, and then shook his head.

"No go, Al," he muttered, "The storms to fierce.  I think it's eye is passing over the island in a few minutes, we can get you in then, but only for that time frame, after that, I'm making no guaranties."

"That'll be enough," Al said, turning around and heading for the image chamber room.  "Contact me the second you're ready, Gooshie," Al said, "Sam's going to need all the help he can get."

***

CLICK. CLICK. 

The sound was loud in Sam's ear. It wasn't a click that was especially effused with menace. Nor did it sound heavy or metallic. Just a plasticy double click. The faint plasticy double click that a safety switch makes when someone rotates it from safe to single-shot and from single-shot to quad-burst on an assault rifle.

At first, Sam thought that it was part of his dream.  But the ruff voice that followed most certainly was not. 

"Get up, both of you!"  That made him open his eyes.  It was only spitting now, but Sam was more worried about the old man standing in the boat with some sort of assault rifle pointed at their heads.

"Huh?  What!?"  Sam looked over at Jackie, who'd just woken up, and was looking, rather shocked, at the man standing before them.  He was well into his sixties, with short silver hair, and wearing a long yellow rain coat.   He was standing in what looked like an old PT boat.

"Who are you?"  Sam asked.  He couldn't help to shake the nagging feeling that he'd met this man before.

"We'll have enough time for questions later," the man said with a deep German accent, "right now, get in," he motioned with the barrel of the gun.  Sam helped Jackie to her feet, and then into the boat.  The man with the gun, kept an eye on the both of them, as they climbed down into the boat.

"Please," Sam said, "We're very grateful that you…"

"Shut up!"  He snapped.  He then pushed forward on the throttle, and switching his attention between them and the waterfall, he drove straight for it.

"Excuse me, sir," Sam said, "We're going too…"

"I said shut up!"  The man boomed back.  "And keep your hands were I can see them!"  Sam raised his hands again.

"Hey," Jackie said, nudging him in the side, "Check it out."  The wolves were gone.  The shredded boat was still on the shore, but no wolves.

Sam didn't have much time to thin k about it, as the boat suddenly passed under the fall, and behind it, into a small cave.

Then, Sam saw the metal door.  It was built into the rock, open, and beyond it, lay the lighted area of what looked like a factory.

"What is this place?"  Sam asked.  The man ignored them, as they passed through the door, and inside.

Sam got his first good look at the place.  It wasn't a factory, but more like an underground submarine dock.  He could tell, because an old diesel sub, and a mini sub, lay moored to a cement dock.  Cranes ran across the ceiling like a web, metal creates were stacked here and there, discarded forklifts, trucks, and jeeps dotted the room…

….and lining the sides of the room were red banners, with the infamous swastika on them.  

"Oh, boy!"  Sam groaned.

Now he recognised the boat.  It was a Leichte Schnellboote, the German PT boat, and the reason he didn't recognise the assault rifle was, because it was a MP44, the German made assault rifle.  And that meant that the submarine was a U-boat.

"Yes," the man said with a smile, "I can tell by the looks on your faces.  This is what you think it is, an underground laboratory of the Glories 3rd Rich.

"You're a Nazi?"  Jackie asked.

"I am a German, a son of the Vatherland!"  The man roared.  "The master race!  I am more than, 'Just a Nazi,' young lady."

Just then, it hit Sam.  He recognised the man.  His Swiss-cheese memory finally kicked in.  "You!"  He cried out, "You're the man I was sent here to find!"

"What?!"  Both Jackie and the man asked.

"You're the missing tourist I was sent here to originally find!"  Jackie stared at Sam, then back at the man.  "Edward Lane, I presume."  Sam muttered.  The man nodded.

"Yes, that is the name I booked myself under as.  However, my real German name and rank is SS Hauptsturmfuhrer Georg Schmidt."

"The SS."  Sam muttered.  "Figures."  Georg smiled, as he pulled the boat up alongside a cement dock, and then jumping out, tied the boat up, and motioned with the gun for them to step out onto the dock.

"Please, do so kindly as to step this way," Georg said, standing back to let them proceed first.

"David," Jackie whispered to Sam, "What are we going to do?"

"Just sit tight," Sam whispered back, "Let's see where this leads us."

"Don't bother plotting escapes," Georg called out to them, "There is no way of this island.  I've already seen to it."

"Then you're the one who's been sabotaging everything, cutting the power, smashing the phones and the radio's.  You were the one who cut down that tree, and nearly killed us!"

"I'm sorry, my dear boy, but I'm afraid I had nothing to do with that."

"Okay, then who else did all that, the wolves?"  Georg smiled.  

"Exactly."  Sam stopped and turned around to face him.

"Excuse me?"

"The wolves," Georg said, "You've been seeing all around you, have been the saboteurs, not myself."

"That's impossible," Sam said, "To do those things would require thumbs, something those wolves do not have!"  This time, Georg laughed, actually bellowed.

"Fraulein," Georg said, pointing to a big steel roller door, "Would you be so kind as to open that door?"  Jackie shrugged, looking from Georg to Sam, then walked over to the long chain, and pulled on it.  The metal squealed in protest, as the door slowly was rolled up.  "Now, march!"  They walked through the door, and came out on a catwalk, overlooking a huge loading by below them.

"Oh my God!"  Sam gasped.  

Stretching before them, six miles in length, half lit and desolated, was a city.

Crudely fashioned tent-type dwellings were spread out across the loading bay.  Here and there, were dots of black ash, were it looks there might have been a fire.  

And here and there, among the tents, were wolves.  They all looked up at Sam and Jackie, as they came in.

"Dear, God!"  Jackie breathe in, "It's a whole bloody civilization, down here!"

"Marvellous, isn't it?"  Georg said, grinning with pride.  "They are the perfect weapons of war!"

"What do you mean?"  Sam asked.

"My dear stupid American," Georg said, "Take a good long look at those, 'wolves,' down there."

It was the first time Sam had gotten a proper look at the wolves.  The ones he'd seen where in the darkness, or only seen the head.  Now, he saw everything.

They looked misshapen and distorted.  Their hind legs were somewhat thicker, it's feet look outlandishly large.  Georg grinned, like a child at Christmas.

"Now, watch this!"  He made a few quick gestures with his hands, and Sam realized, he was performing sign language.  "Watch!"  He snapped, and what happened next, was completely unexpected.

There was aloud squelching sound, as the hind legs of the wolves, suddenly extended.  Sam could see bones moving, and sliding under the fur, and locking into place, creating longer legs, as they stood, yes stood on their hind legs.  Its stance reminded Sam of the way a Kangaroo stands.  Then, they dislocated their front legs, snapping them forward into hidden sockets.  They rotated their front paws around, and three slender long fingers uncurling from where they'd been stored.  Followed by two thumbs which un-curled on each paw.  The sight of two thumbs on their hand like paws was discomforting, not as much as the three inch long claws that slid out from their finger tips.  Finally, They snapped their heads forward, so they were hunched over, and they all turned to face the three of them. 

They looked a misshapen and distorted human with a wolf head.  No, not human.  The way the muscles moved... it wasn't human.  An organic patchwork, Frankenstein's creature.  The sight was truly one to behold.  In all his adventures, Sam had never seen anything like this.  This was… was…. Unbelievable.

"What the hell are they?"  Jackie gasped, getting over the initial shock.

"I'm glad you find them fascinating," Georg said, "They are the product of years of genetic manipulation, millions of Marks, the latest of cutting edge technology, and the finest doctors in all of the 3rd Rich.  You are very privileged to be looking at the legacy of the Brilliant Dr. Joseph Mengele."

"The Angle of Death."  Sam muttered.  Georg smiled once more.  

"I see you've heard of the good doctor."

"I thought his specialty was in experimenting on twins?"

"That was only part of his work," Georg said, "His true goal, lay in the future of the 3rd Rich, the super-soldiers that would lead us to victory."  He looked over at another door, a normal sized door, and pointed with the muzzle of the gun.  "Come," he said, "I'll try to explain, to our feeble minds."

***

Al was on the point of thinking about leaping himself when Gosshie announced that the eye of the storm was passing over Sam's position.

"Finally," he muttered, stepping onto the platform."

***

They were marched down the catwalk, with the wolves watching them.  Georg quickly walked in front of them, and keeping the gun on them, opened the door, and they all walked inside, Georg closing the door behind him.

The room they had entered was an office of sorts.  Charts of different kinds of dissected animals covered the walls; one end of the room was filled with what looked like twenty filing cabinets containing God only knows.  Stacks of folders marked 'TOP SECERT' covered the main desk, along with books, pencils, pens, some playing cards, and a glass jar containing was looked like an unborn wolf cub.

"Welcome to my office," Georg said with pride. 

"This place could use a woman's touch," Jackie muttered, glaring at the mess that littered the desk and floors.

Sam then heard the sound of the Image chamber door opening, and Al's cry of surprise.

"Sam?  What the hell is…"  Sam moved his hand behind his head as if to scratch an itch, but wagged his finger, motioning for Al to zip it, and sit tight.  Al understood, and kept quite.

"Let me begin – for you – at the beginning."  He walked over to his desk, and picked up one the few books there.  It was the bible.  "It took God one day, to create intelligent life.  It took us three years."  He placed the bible down.  "When the tied of the war turned against us in February of 1943, The Fuhrer realised it was going to take a super weapon to save the 3rd Rich.  He turned to the countries many scientists to develop weapons that could tilt the balance once more in our favour.  It was Dr. Mengele who first submitted the idea for the super-soldier.  His experimentation on the limits of the human body had lead him to a cretin Japanese research camp in Manchuria.  Unit 731."

He shuffled through some folders on his desk, and picked up one, with Japanese and German writing across it.  He handed it to Sam.  Sam opened it, with Jackie and Al peering over his shoulder.  Inside where pictures of Chinese men, women and children, nightmarishly disfigured.

"Unit 731 was originally a chemical weapons research facility, were the Japanese researched far more deadlier chemical weapons than Germany ever did.  However, some of there research showed the limitations of the human body, what it could do, what it was capable of –" he grinned, showing his teeth, "—and the effects of mutations."

Horrified, Sam closed the folder, and flung it back at Georg.  It fell harmlessly to the floor, spilling its contents out on the floor for everyone to see.  Georg just chuckled.

"That's what started the research."  He looked around the room.  "Since France belonged to us, we made good use of its Empire and it's resources.  This island was out of the way of the allied bombings, and work could go on here, undisturbed.  Argentina and other South American countries that supported the Rich gave us their resources we required, saving precious raw materials for the German War machine back home.  We were self sufficient, and we were making progress.  Or so we thought."

He picked up another folder, but never handed this one to Sam.

"We started out with super-humans, soldiers we could control and lead into battle.  However, the results were somewhat… disappointing.  The human brain is a Pandora's box, full of unexpected surprises.  The super-humans we were working on, could not be controlled, and some outright killed themselves what they saw what had happened to them.  We suggested using the corpses of fallen SS troopers, their brains would remain loyal to our cause, but Heinrich Himmler nearly had a fit.  And there we were, we were running out of test subjects, and our deadline was running out, even faster."

He indicated to the numerous charts of dissected animals.

"One day, I was observing the wildlife on this island, when I saw a chameleon, camouflage its self to hid from a predator, and that's where it all began.  A carnivore's brain is simple, so simple enough that t only needs the basic instructions," with his free hand, he indicated with his fingers the three points, "hunt, eat, and survive.  I searched long into the night, searching for the perfect predator that would make the perfect soldier.  In the end, I suppose it was inevitable.  After all, the wolf, is the greatest hunter of them all, just like our U-Boats.  Silent, and deadly."

He picked up another folder, and handed this one to Sam.  Sam flipped it open.  Inside where diagrams of wolf brains, pictures of dissected wolf brains, and other animals, the very ones that covered the room.  There was a chameleon, a Kangaroo, a gorilla, a cheetah and even some insects.

"Some insects have been known to mimic their natural predators in order to survive.  I would that the next step.  It would be a giant leap in evolution.  A predator that could alter its appearance.  Blend in with any background, and remerge as a dangerous killing machine, with of cause a few added extras."

"You call that blending?"  Jackie cried out, pointing at the office door, as if she were pointing at the wolves them selves.  "Have you seen them?  They don't look anything like a wolf should!"

"Yes, I must admit," Georg said sadly, "We weren't able to fully perfect them, but in the confusion of the darkness and rain, you thought they were ordinary wolves.  Right up to the point when you saw them in full light."  

No one spoke.

"Now, where was I?  Oh yes, with all our previous experience in genetic manipulation and mutation, we were able to proceed much faster.  Soon, we had our Adam.  _Our_ first perfect super-soldier.  The tests that followed were more than anyone expected.  We gave them limited intelligence, and the test proved they had the intelligence of a caveman.  They communicated with each other, and their handlers by using hand singles, their limited intelligence, and the shape of their mouths prevented them from speaking.  We tested them with modern weapons, and they learnt fast, their keen sight and smell made them perfect marksmen.  Their heightened abilities made them faster, and stronger than any man.  The creature we had produced was a predator far more dangerous than man could ever hope to be."

Then, he hung his head, and sighed.

"But by then, it was too late.  Two days after we sent out footage of our successes, we learnt of the Fuhrer's death, then a week later, Germany surrendered, and the greatest experiment in the history of evolution was left to gather dust.  But we were not about to give up what we'd discovered, not after coming so far.  We had only produced twelve wolf soldiers, when the surrender came.  Without funding, they would surly die out.  It was then, that those of us remaining carry out the experiment through to the end.  Germany would still be victorious, and we would get our revenge on _all_ of our enemies!  It wasn't too difficult to create a she-wolf, but we could only manufacture about six, before our remaining resources dried up.  But still, it was enough to ensure the survival of my children."

"Your… children?"  Sam asked. 

"And why not?"  Georg said proudly.  "God created us, and we are his children.  I am their God, I created them, and they are my legacy!"

"Didn't I see this guy on 'One flew over Cuckoo's nest?"  Al asked, looking up at the ceiling.

"You're nuts!"  Jackie said.

"That's what they said about Darwin," Georg snapped, "And soon, I'll prove my genius to the entire world!"

"What do you mean by that?"  Sam asked.

"Do you honestly think that I would waist my time here, creating the perfect hunter, just to let it rot in the darkness?  This isn't about science achieving great things!  This is about revenge!  Pure and simple payback!"

"On who?"  Sam asked, already knowing the answer.

"Who do you think?!"  Georg shrieked.  "The Allies, but more importantly, the United States of America.  They were the ones who provided the manpower that destroyed the 3rd Rich, if they had just kept to themselves, Germany would be the great country should have been, today!"  He pointed out the office door.  "Soon, my children will leave this wretched island, and go forth, and spread like wild fire across the United States, destroying it, like they destroyed my Germany!"

"The U-boat."  Sam muttered.

"Yes, the U-boat!"  Georg cried.  "The boat was designed to carry equipment, not torpedos, it'll hold their whole species, all forty of them!"

"Forty!?"  Sam said.  Jackie leaned closer and whispered.

"Looks like someone's been busy."  Al couldn't help but cracking up in laughter.  But something didn't make any sense.

"Why come back here, now?"  Sam asked, "After all this time?"

"I told you, the last of my team and I created some females so the species wouldn't die out, I never said how long _that_ took.  It took me a while to get the necessary funding, and resources to do so, and believe me, those kinds of resources don't come cheap.  It took us twelve years to keep them alive, to the point were their population was growing, not falling, or staying still.  They had to be at that level if the plan for revenge was to be a susses.  Only the recent events from the fifties and early sixties kept me from deploying them, my hope was that the US and the USSR would destroy each other, both of them, enemies of the Rich.  But the recent defusion of the Cuban Missile Crises changed all that.  It was obvious that you weren't going to destroy each other, I made plans once more."

He crossed behind his desk, and sat down in the chair there.

"I set about training them, teaching them basic guerrilla warfare.  They still knew how to use weapons, and there was new blood.  The only dam in my plans was the go ahead for the hotel.  Everything had been perfect until they opened this blasted hotel!  When the construction crews moved in, I came along as a building supervisor, the original one I had… disposed off.  I kept the wolves in the safety of the base, providing them with prey to hunt, while training them further.  Finally, the hotel was open, still not fully finished, with limited staff, and I booked myself in, in order to stay on the island without raising suspicion.  My chosen date for the invasion of the US was coming up soon, and it was now or never.  I unleashed them on the island, and they proved themselves to my best expectations.  They quickly disposed of all the guests and staff on the island."

He then rubbed his chin.

"All except you two.  I really don't understand how you two have managed to survive all this time; you should have been killed long ago.  My wolves are known to lead their prey into traps, but they just kept you moving along in the direction of this base, as if they were handing you over to me."  He looked out the door.  "This will require much study, that is why I brought you here, why you have been aloud to live as long as you have.  Now that I've explained myself, I think it's time you returned the favour."

"Not quite," Jackie said, "You said your chosen date for the invasion of the US was coming up, soon, what date is that?"

"Why, the 8th of May, this very year."

"The 8th of May," Sam asked, "Why then?"  Jackie realised its significance.

"VE Day," she murmured.

"Correct, it would have been a generation since the defeat of Germany, quite fitting, don't you think, since it was 20 years between the first and second world wars."  He twisted his free hand in the air, "kind of poetic."

"Kinda insane is what I call it," Al snapped pointing his cigar at Georg, "Sam you've gotta do something!"

"Look, Georg," Sam began, but Georg jabbed his gun in Sam's direction to let him know he was still in charge.

"I don't care for what you have to say, American," he snapped, "So now, I'll just find out, why you weren't attacked."  He motioned with the rifle muzzle to the office door.  "Outside!"  They exited the office, and onto the catwalk.  "Now, I'm going to…"  He dropped of, as he looked down at the shantytown below, to see no wolves anywhere.  "God in heaven?"  He shouted, peering down, "Where have they go…"  

"Now, Sam!"  Al shouted.  Sam ball up a fist, and swung around with a left hook, it connected right on Georg's left jaw.  There was a solid thwack, and Georg was sent sprawling onto the catwalk.  The rifle fired of a few burst, but as he hit the ground, it was knock from his hand, sliding over to the edge of the catwalk.

"Get 'em!"  Jackie shouted, as Sam leapt down on Georg.  But as Sam went for his neck, Georg lashed out with his knee, getting Sam right in the belly.  Sam woofed, as he clutched his stomach, and Georg lashed out with his boot, kicking Sam in the face.

"Sam, he's going for the gun!"  Al shouted.  Sam saw Georg crawling towards the edge of the catwalk, where the gun lay.  Gun?  

Sam reached into his pocket, and pulled out the small handgun, and pulling back the hammer, he pulled the trigger.

Georg cried out, and jerked on the catwalk as a bullet tore into his right shoulder.  

"Hold it right there!"  Sam growled.  Georg just lay there, clutching his shoulder, then, he slowly rolled over to face them.

"Fool," he breathed out heavily, "you're both fools, if you think you can escape."

"Uhh, Sam!"  Al said.  Sam looked down into the shantytown, and saw heads, poking out from the tents.

"Oh boy!"  Sam said.  Georg chuckled.  

"I told you, you can't get off this island alive!  My children are devoted to me, and me alone, if I'm under attack, they will come to my aid, no matter the cost!"

"What are you…. Oh!"  Jackie said, as she saw the wolves slowly approaching the catwalk, and all three of them began to wonder, how high could they jump?

"Oh, they can jump up here," Georg said, answering the question for them, "I would run, if I were you, they like running prey!"

"Those are the freakiest looking werewolves I've ever seen," Al said, as they began to gather just below where they were on the catwalk.

"Jackie," Sam muttered, not taking his eyes of the wolves, "Run, now!"  They both took of down the catwalk, while Georg just laughed at them.

"Sam, look out!"  Al shouted, as the wolves started following them from the ground, but for some reason, they kept switching their vision from Sam, back to Al.  Sam and Jackie both reached the big roller door, and rushing through, pulled on the chain, and closed the door, just as the wolves were jumping up onto the catwalk.

"Do you think that'll hold 'em?"  Jackie asked.

Five claws suddenly sliced through the metal door, leaving a slash mark in the door.  Then another, and another, and yet another.

"Come on!"  Sam shouted, as he grabbed Jackie's hand and they started running across the loading bay, towards the Leichte Schnellboote, still tied up at the dock.  As they drew nearer to the boat, Al appeared before them.

"Sam, hurry!"  He shouted, pointing over at the roller door, which was shaking from all the blows, "They're braking through, there's at least four of them up there now!"  They jumped down onto the boat, and Sam looked at the control panel.  He didn't know what to do.

"Oh, here, let me!"  Jackie pushed him aside, and got the engine running in no time flat.  "See?"  She said.

Bullets suddenly spanged all over the boat, and they both ducked for cover.  They both peeked a look, to see Georg standing by an open door, with the MP44 clutched in his hands.

"I told you, you're not going to leave this island alive!"  And to emphases his point, he fired more rounds at the boat.

"Shoot back, damn it!"  Jackie hissed at him.

"With what, this?"  Sam hissed back, holding up the RG14.  "Its limit is 10 yards, he's fifteen yards away."

"You better think of something, Sam!"  Al cried out, pointing furiously over at the roller door, which was falling to pieces.  One wolf even had his head, and right arm through the door, and was bitting at it.

"Can't you get the boat to reverse out of here?"  Sam asked Jackie.  

She shook her head.  "The reverse lever is up there," she pointed to the control panel, "Right in his field of fire!  He'll shoot my hand off before I even tough the bloody thing."

"Sam!"

"How many rounds has he got, Al?"  Al looked over at the gun, and punched in a few numbers, calculating the bullets he'd used up.

"What?"  Jackie cried out.  Before she could ask who Al was, Sam interrupted.

"Look at him, Jackie!"  Sam said, "He'd pumped up on adrenaline, if we can taunt him into wasting his bullets, that'll give us some time to reverse out of here."

"He's only got 21 bullets left, Sam!"  Al cried out.

"Hey, Georg," Sam shouted, "If your children are so great, how come we've managed to stay alive for so long?"  

"I admit, I don't know, but you won't live long enough to find out!"

"Well, maybe if you can't explain that, you mustn't be the great scientist you claim to be, or perhaps your children aren't the perfect super-soldier!"

That worked, bullets slammed into the boat.  "Sam!"  Al shouted, "He's down to 12!  And hurry!"

"Insolent American swine!"  He shouted.  "My children are perfect, you here me!?  PERFECT!!"

"Is that why they've spent 20 years in hiding?"  More bullets showered the boat.

"How dear you!"  He roared.  "When I'm through you with you, there won't be enough left for a DNA sample!"

"Sam, he only has 2 bullets left."  Al shouted, "And hurry!"  Sam felt around for the reverse lever, and just as he suspected, Georg started firing.  Two bursts of gunfire followed, by several loud clicks.

"What?!  No!" 

"Now!"  Sam shouted.  Jackie leapt up, and jammed the throttle into reverse.  The boat began to move backwards slowly. 

"SAAAAAAAM!"  Al's shriek spun Sam's head in the direction of the roller door, it collapsed as the wolves finally tore enough from it, and they spilled out onto the docking bay area.  Sam looked down at the boat moving in the water.  They weren't moving fast enough, he could even outrun it at this speed.

He looked back at the wolves.  They could jump of the boat, but then they would lose their only transport of the island.  For once in his life, Sam didn't know what to do, and everything looked bleak.

Or so he thought.  The wolves had stop charging at them.  They were squatting on the docking bay, just looking not at them, but right at Al.  Al in the meantime was freaked out by this, the forty odd werewolves looking right at him, he began to back off, so much that he wasn't looking where he was going, and floated down, to the surface of the water.

The wolves are whined, and lowered themselves down on their hunches.  

"What are you idiot's waiting for!?!"  Georg screamed.  "Attack!"  He made the hand sign for attack as he spoke.  The wolves just looked from Al, to him, and back again.  Georg looked over at Al, but couldn't see anything there. He blew on his silent whistle four times, and then once more shouted, "Attack!" making the hand sign as he roared.  "Attack, you fools, there's nothing there!!"

But the wolves wouldn't go forward.

"What's gotten into them?"  Jackie asked.

Suddenly, it hit him.  Of cause, Georg himself said that they only had the limited intelligence of a predator, like a caveman.  A simple mind can be taught things, and understand modern technology, what they know, like boats, planes, cars, guns, but they weren't taught about time travellers or holograms!  Predator's intelligence can only go so far, before they can reason right and wrong.  They can reason a gun if taught how to use one, they can be taught to understand what a car is, a boat is, a plane is, what a human is, but they can't be taught, or reason, creatures who suddenly change appearance, and smell, and creatures who aren't really there.  They were animals after all, and animals could see him for who he really was.  And this totally screwed up their logic.  So that's why they never attacked him when he first arrived, and that's why they were never around when Al was.

Sam smiled.  It looks like the super-predator wasn't so super after all.  "Al," He shouted out to the hologram, "You're scaring them, they're afraid of you because you're a hologram!"

"Who are you talking too?"  Jackie demanded.

"Never mind," Sam said, "just keep that thing in reverse."

"Really?"  Al said, and then floating back up to the docking bay, he pressed a few more buttons, and started floating around in the air.  "Oga-Bogga-Boooo!"  Al made childish scary noises, but it worked, the wolves lowered their ears, and tails, and started backing up, moving away from the floating human, who really wasn't there.

As they backed out, Sam caught a glimpse of Georg, standing on the dock, gun no longer in his hands, watching in outright shock, as the super-soldier he'd worked so long and hard on, withered before an image of light.  How ironic, like a war of the worlds twist.  

Sam couldn't help but shout out, "Oh well, Georg, back to the old drawing bord, hey?"

"YOU!"  Georg snarled, pointing right at Sam, "You did this to them, this is all YOUR FUALT!!"  He rushed over to a metal locker on the far wall, and wrenched it open.  Inside lay five rocket launchers, or Panzershreks as they were called.  He pulled one out, and aimed it in their direction.  "I won't have the pleasure of seeing my children tear you to shreds, but at least I'll have the pleasure of killing you myself!"

"SAM!"  Al cried out.  Jackie shrieked in fear.

Shear adrenaline shot through Sam, as Georg took aim.  He leapt over the control panel in a single bound, and sticking out his legs forward, landed on the front of the boat, skidding across, right into the triggers of the front mounted machinegun.

He was still sliding, as he grabbed the handles, and squeezed the triggers.

Fire spouted from the heavy machine gun as it fired, spent shells rained down on Sam, and cement exploded form the wall as he drew a crocked line right across the wall, with Georg in it's path.  Georg doubled over, as two bullets tore through his stomach and chest.  There was a sudden splatter of red on the wall behind him, and he collapsed against the wall.

The Panzershrek fell from his hands, to clatter harmlessly on the floor.  He slid down the wall, leaving a long smear trail behind him.  His head was lowered, and he breathed heavily, once; twice; then his chest stopped moving all together.

"Whoa!"  Al said.

"Bloody Hell!"  Jackie screamed.  "That was wicked!  I've never seen anyone move that fast in my entire life!"  

"Sam, check it out!"  Al called out.  Sam looked over at the wolves.  They were still whimpering, but they weren't looking at Al, rather at the body of Georg.  

"Turn of the engine!"  Sam instructed.

"What?"  Jackie cried out.

"Just turn it off!"  Sam snapped.  They all crawled over to Georg, and surrounded his body.  Then, they threw back their heads, and howled, a long, mournful howl.

"How sad," Jackie said suddenly on impulse.  Yes it was.  Sam thought.

"Al, what happens to them?"  Sam called out.  Al punched in a few buttons.

"Again with this Al, David who are you talking too?"

"Well, according to what we could find, during the time period of Georg's invasion of the US, the submarine, USS Trident was patrolling in the Florida keys, and they came across a diesel powered sub, when it never answered their calls, they suspected it to be Cuban, and they sunk it with two torpedos.

"How sad," Sam suddenly said.

"David?"  Jackie said, "Who is this Al person you keep talking too?"  Sam bit his lip.

"Al, what if I'm not here to help Jackie and David, but rather, them!"

"David?!  What is going on?!"

"You're kidding, aren't you, Sam?"  Al asked.

"Only one way to find out."  Sam got up and jumped back onto the dock.  The wolves all turned, and looked at him, as he approached.  "Al, help me out here, how do I do sign language."

Al came over, and using the hand link, gave Sam the necessary directions he needed.  

Jackie watched in utter confusion, as David began performing sign language to the wolves.  Their ears picked up, as they obviously understood what he was saying, or signing.  They sometimes signed back, like they were having a conversation.  Finally, it ended with the wolves nodding in agreement, and walking back to their shantytown.  

David smiled, turned to thin air, and thanked Al, who ever he was, and jogged back over to the boat.

"What did you say to them?"  Jackie asked.

"I just told them, that they were their own masters now, and that they should try to live a peaceful life, somewhere in the Amazon rainforest."

"You're kidding," Jackie, said, "Do they know where it is?"

"Their pack leader dose," Sam said, he's studied maps of the area, preparing for the invasion.  They know how to operate the submarine, and so they'll take that down the Amazon River."  Jackie shook her head.

"I don't get it, how did you know they would accept that proposal, and not rip you to pieces?"

"Simple, Georg said that they are fast learners, and they understand what they know, and what Georg didn't understand is in the time of his absence, they built their own civilization, like we did when our ancestors were living in caves.  With their master dead, they have no propose anymore, and no further need to invade the US."

"What do you think will happen to them?"  Jackie asked.

"God only knows, Jackie," Sam said putting his arm around her.  "God only knows."  Then, everything went bright blue, and vanished…..

**THE END.**


End file.
